


i sometimes wish i’d never been born at all

by GraceMack



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket
Genre: Drinking, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Panic Attacks, Suicidal Thoughts, yeah it ain’t fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:54:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26655454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraceMack/pseuds/GraceMack
Summary: There are nights where he must be alone.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	i sometimes wish i’d never been born at all

**Author's Note:**

> Because watching your father be killed by one of your closest friends in front of you isn’t leaving you without a good deal of trauma.

There are nights where he must be alone.

For yes, he does crave the raving applause of an audience. And yes, he delights in the idea of performing with hundreds to see. But there are nights where thoughts are too loud to ignore, and even his henchpeople leave him alone. He doesn’t know whether they’re aware of what happens on those nights, or if they don’t care. 

On those nights, he’ll take something from his wine cabinet. Something strong, something so pungent that he’ll regret it the next morning. But it isn’t about tomorrow morning, or any of the morning’s before. It’s about tonight, and that evening at the opera.

And then, he’ll climb. To the highest tower, where no one can find him. Where it’s just him and his shame. He’ll slam the opening closed, and stand there for a moment. In one hand there’s a bottle, and the other is clenched so tight that his nails dig into skin.

And he’ll  _ scream _ .

It’s not a pleasant scream. It’s a symphony of pain and misery, swallowed by hatred. He feels his walls shatter around him, as everything sets in. He feels tears stream down his face, as he slowly collapses to the ground.

Distractions all gone, he feels all of the spirits around him taunting. Laughing at this poor excuse of a man, who can’t do anything right. For he can’t do anything right. Every time he tries to do anything, the cave in his chest grows, till he feels so empty that he can’t breath.

Choking sobs will be all that leaves him, as he silently wonders what led to this. He wonders why he’s here. Why it had to be him that came here. He wishes that it hadn’t. That he could’ve been the one to die, instead of his father.

Every time he closes his eyes, he sees that night. He sees his father, and he sees his eyes. The way they softened when they fell on his poor excuse for a son. The way they widened as he fell down. The way they grew quiet. 

He fell so quietly, too. All of it happened so fast, and before he could process, nothing was the same. The world screamed around him, but he just felt numb. Everything felt numb. There was a scream (was it his own?), and shaking. So much shaking. Kit held him tight, and he held on tighter.

But Kit wasn’t there anymore. It was just him and his failures. 

If only he had been different. If only he had noticed Lemony and Beatrice before they had left. If only they hadn’t chased after the thiefs. If only there hadn’t been any poison in the dart. If only he had gotten the chance to say goodbye.

But that's not how the story went. Instead, he’s in this reality, where he failed. And nothing can change that.

Olaf drinks himself to sleep, for it’s the only way to keep himself from drowning in his head.


End file.
